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Thy words have brought a calmness to my soul
Not known before: but yet I still am wide
From understanding. All around me roll
The strifes of men who put their selfish pride
And bodies’ need above all else beside.
And I too feel the pressure of my need;
I have aspired to more abundant life.
Should not man eagerly this longing feed
And seek the full enjoyment of this world
Wherein he hath, without consent, been hurled?
Upon the sweetness of pure servitude
Man’s spirit feeds. I have adorned the face
Of Nature with this Truth: who of this food
Eats not can in My Kingdom find no place.
Yet see: its service makes thy nights and days!
And even the grass, in humble service sweet, Makes all the earth a carpet for thy feet
Shall man alone, defying My wise Plan, Demand a price to serve his brother man?
When man attains the station of re-birth
Into My Kingdom’s Love no more shall dearth
In midst of plenty curse the race of Man:
The meek shall then inherit all the earth.
If I am meek men tread me in the mire.
My spirit longs to serve none else but Thee,
But how can I be humble and aspire
To servitude? This world imprisons me.
help me, God, My soul longs to be free!
Throughout My universe I have ordained
The Law of Energy. Lo! All things work. Age-long My toiling spheres have not complained
Nor, slothful, sought their heaven-born task to shirk,
Yet note their endless travail. And behold
The atom! Here a universe unrolled
In miniature before thy wondering eye:
Its bright electrons see, they ceaseless ply
With noiseless speed and not a jot abate
Their toil, that they may aid Me to create.
Thus doth the universe acknowledge Me
And in its constant toil do reverence.
‘Tis man alone who in his work doth see
A means for selfish gain. To penitence
For this dread sin against My Love I called
Him by the scourge of crime and poverty,
That through his suffering he may wiser be,
And know work as a means to worship Me.
Lo, how the whole world now doth stand appalled
Before the wreck such wantonness hath made!
This is My bounty, making man afraid
Above all else to brave My chastening Rod:
Hence My Command to “Fear the Lord thy God.”
Behold thc sun: it asks no pay nor praise
My Lord! How may I find Thee in my toil?
My heart leaps with new ecstasy to hear
That labor may no longer be to moil
And sweat beneath the awful lash of fear:
Ah, what a royal crown might Labor wear!
How sweet is work, an attribute of Mine!
Shall man deprive himself of this divine
And sacred gift? Again I call to thee
And all men: seek in servitude the wine
If thou wouldst My lover be
Pour all thy love on men; if thou wouldst find
True wealth of joy to thine own joy be blind;
If thou wouldst fill thy barns with harvest store
See that thy brother men shall have still more.
O give and all to thee shall then be given. How vainly men for self have fought and
Throughout the ages! Is it not enough? Come, build on earth the Kingdom of My
Thus shall earth pour her riches in men’s hands;
To him who gives My stars give in their turn;
From one Ray of My Generosity Such Suns of generosity shall rise That men shall look on men with glad surprise
And wonder that it took so long to learn.
The splendor of this luminosity,
Which from My Sun shall pour upon all lands,
Shall bathe My people in Celestial light,
And all their terrors, creatures of the night
Of Self, their poverty and shame, the bands
Of steel which made their sordid toil a curse,
Shall, like all phantoms of the dark, take flight
And men shall find in work their truest prayer,
The fruits of which they all together share. This is the law of all My universe.
To all My World I call: This is a Day
The light of which beyond the noon-day sun
Is sanctified. It is the Day foretold.
See how the nations late so proud and bold
Are humbled in the shadow of their doom.
Their councils are in tumult; earthquakes roar
As the oppressed of men toss in the gloom, And threaten those whom late they bowed
My Messenger hath come with healing wings And sword of Justice. To all wrong He
Destruction; to the Right triumphant sway. This is the meaning of My Prophet’s Word:
“Behold the Great and Fearful Day of God.”
My Trump hath blown: My Holy, venging Sword
Hath cast the mighty from their seats. The sod
So long drenched with the blood of innocence
Shall bloom again. The time for penitence
Is past. My Justice and My Love shall reign
And earth shall be a paradise again.
Bewildered are the learned and the wise
Of this world, and the nations tremble sore
To their foundations.
But those blessed eyes
Which kept awake and watched that they might see
And greet My coming, these My Name adore And write upon their hearts My high Command.
They take My Chalice from My generous Hand
And drink with joy, their pure hearts all aflame,
And cry aloud in every Prophet’s Name:
“Praise be to Thee, our long-awaited Lord! Praise be to Thee, we cling to Thy strong
Praise be to Thee, our souls to Thee are turning!
Praise be to Thee, beloved of our heart’s yearning!”
THE BAHA’T WORLD
This is the Day for which My dear Son prayed
And taught men thus to pray. He with My aid
Worked for My Kingdom; Its foundations laid
In all men’s hearts with loving servitude.
My kind forbearance made oppressors bold; My patience negligent their hearts hath
Till now the flags of passion they unfold And ride their steeds to death all unafraid.
But know that I love Justice over all:
None may neglect it who desireth Me.
The hidden secrets of all hearts I see
And mark them well.
The wicked surely fall.
An eagle fierce is now pursuing them
And ordeals dire upon their footsteps tread.
Except they turn and grasp My Garment’s hem
Of justice, they are numbered with the dead.
For while they to their sure destruction ride,
My Spirit, once again enshrined in flesh,
My Very Self, comes hastening to man’s aid
And summons a vast Host, unto His side
To build My Kingdom on the ruined plan
For power which those rabid wolves have made.
The tread of these, My Hosts, shall shake the world,
And make each tyrant totter on his throne. Look! Even now have they not sternly
A horde of them unto their doom! Now prone
They lie who late their filthy dunghill strode And blatantly their barnyard triumph
For all such cocks the last dread hour hath struck.
The vengeance of My marching Hosts shall pluck
Them from their seats. Among forgotten things
Soon—Soon shall they be numbered. Look! Their wings
Have now been clipped: they speedily shall fall
Into the pit they for their brothers dug
And none shall hark nor heed their dying call.
Thy Hosts! Thy Hosts triumphant? Who are these,
O God! I see them not. The tyrant seems
Triumphant: When one falls his vacant place
Is taken by another worse than he.
How canst Thou let such huge injustice be!
In vain man dreams of his long-sought release
From slavery to arrogance. His dreams
Of liberty and truth across the face
Of History float like a wraith. It seems
That warfare triumphs, not Thy promised Peace;
Of brotherhood sincere there’s scarce a trace.
I am the Lord of Hosts! My hosts indeed
Are those who from all human ties are freed,
And rise to serve My Everlasting Truth.
Each one of them holds in his righteous hand
A trumpet, sounding loudly in each land
The call to free and more abundant life.
These walk above the world by My Great Name,
And, like a searing, devastating flame
Destroy the forts of wrong and still man’s strife.
From every human attribute set free
They take commands from Me—from only Me!
See how the shadow moveth when its lord,
The sun, commands. So do My servants stand
And move, and raze and build at My Command.
These rule the world with Justice, My Keen Sword.
My attributes adorn their earthly frame;
Their very names are lost in My Great Name;
Their brows illumined with My Holiness They singing march all evil to redress.
So bath My love their total being won:
So bath It through their veins and arteries run,
That every part and limb obeys My Voice:
They can no other for they’ve made their choice.
When once My servants listen unto Me
They hear none else, for they at last are free
From all dependence on men’s praise or blame.
My smile their glory is, My frown their shame.
My Power assists them: one alone pursues
A thousand and ten times that number flee
At threat of two. Before their thundering feet
All strongholds fall as Jericho once fell.
The chains of slaves, the bars of prisons greet
Their shouts and vanish when they sound the knell.
Such are My Hosts. They have bound up their thews
With My all-conquering omnipotence. Who can resist them whom My Power en-
The Tree of Man
Must bear My fruits. He must affirm My Plan.
He must abolish slavery and war.
He must compassion have on all My poor.
He must establish Justice in his gates.
All prejudice, all ignorance, all hates
He must abolish from his inmost part
And love his enemies with all his heart.
He must establish Unity; know all Religions, races, creeds and flags as one.
Humanity with two wings flies. If one Be clipped how can My servants soar and
Hence Woman must be free—her slavery done—
That she may fly with man on equal wing.
One language must he learn to speak, that so The winds of vague distrust may cease to
He must to all details of life apply
The Law of Love. Thus all his social needs
Shall be immersed in My pure Sea, and seeds
Of hatred, born of envy, quickly die.
For economic ills, howe’er involved
Are by the science of My Love resolved.
I have decreed all work to worship be, And work for service done is love for Me.
Man must all ancient barriers cast down,
Inherited from days when Nature made
Men strangers, pagans, foes unto each other.
All man-made walls that fearfulness bath laid
To keep man from his friendly, unknown brother,
Must nevermore upon My children frown.
Man must upon My Singleness agree; In all My Prophets see My Unity, And in Their Meeting know that they meet
For all are but the Trumpets of My Voice Who in My heart’s companionship rejoice, And bring men to My Kingdom
All peoples must a general council call
To form a Parliament of Man, that all
Mankind in friendly conference may meet
And frame a Universal Law for Man,
The Race, based on My Word revealed today.
Blest is the soul who loves and serves his kind,
Not he who loves alone his native land.
Thus all My children gather at My feet;
Thus all conform to one generic Plan;
Thus all, with joy, My Will, not man’s, obey.
Men’s eyes shall then see Glory, late so blind. Rejoice! Rejoice! This is My fixed Command.
For Lo! My Day of Justice now bath dawned,
And hell its final wickedness hath spawned.
THE BAHA’I WORLD
All men who love this Light and tend Its burning:
All men who, prejudice and hatred spurning, Follow Its Gleam, are in My Host enrolled.
All men who have the Universal mind;
All men who limbs of weeping slaves unbind;
All men who for each thought of war do hold,
And firmly hold, a stronger thought of peace;
All men who in their inmost heart enfold
The Christian, Moslem, Jew, and never cease
Proclaiming Oneness; Men who treat the white,
The black, the yellow—each one as a flower
Within My Garden, varicolored light
Which makes My perfect spectrum; all who shower
My Knowledge on the eager minds, (what men
Call science), and who know they have found Me
Anew when any Truth is found, My Pen, My Pen Supreme, records such loyal men As of My Host: of such My
For that blest hour which no man knew hath rung;
My angels to man’s longing ear have sung; The Light bath shone from East unto the
My wandering birds are homing to their Nest.
The thief was in the house while owner slept.
If only men had prayed and vigil kept
They would have known Me when in Man My Throne
I mounted, and My Light upon them shone.
With My great Besom now I sweep the world.
Soon all the flags of evil shall be furled.
The self-called great shall learn how small they are
When My transcendent Oneness they ignore.
All such are likened unto reckless boys
In puddles playing on My sea’s vast shore.
Soon they shall hear My venging Ocean roar
And see its waves o’erwhelm their childish toys:
And they themselves be swept to doom so great
That none would stoop to envy their estate.
O Glorious Lord! My heart is living song;
At last I glimpse the light for which I long.
My heart bursts with the hope of meeting Thee!
Now all my questions, asked and unasked, flee
Before Thy Mighty Word.
0, may I be
Enrolled with these, Thy chosen ones? May I
Be privileged to die, unknown, for Thee:
Or, self-forgetting, be allowed to live
And all my dedicated powers give
That my own fellow-men no more may lie
In graves of their own digging?
So may Thy
Long-promised Kingdom now be built on earth;
That so in midst of plenty may be dearth No more, and from all sorrowed, weeping
Shall tears be wiped away, and anguished cries Replaced by joyous song!
My eager being flies
To seek my longed-for, promised Guide;
Nor is the night so dark nor world so wide
But I shall find Him and His Word obey.
0, Voice of God! Assure success, I pray! Confer illumination on my day!
When man calls unto Me with heart sincere
As thine, Lo! I become the very ear
With which he heareth My assured reply.
Unto thy eager knock My Love all doors unlock.
Now to myself at last—at last—I die! And, risen to true Life, armed with Love’s
I march beneath Thy banner, nor care when, Nor where, nor how I meet my shining Lord Enthroned in Man, for I shall
My glory rests upon thee. On thy head
My confirmations fall.
Before thy tread
All obstacles shall fade and I will lead Thee to thy heart’s desire.
I grant release
To thee from bondage; from all fear surcease.
To every soul who followeth Guidance— Peace.
—HOWARD COLBY Ivus
AT THE GRAVE OF THORNTON CHASE
O blessed spot! Where once the Master trod! ‘Twas here He lifted up His voice in
Unto that Glorious One, with Him to share
His poignant grief. For here, beneath the sod,—
O’ershadowed by the murmuring leaYes
In autumn’s breeze—the earthly temple fair
Of him—His faithful son without compare,— Was laid,—this servant of the Will of God.
O holy shrine! They come from every land To honor him, in western world the first
To see the Light of this New Day. To whom
The Master station gave. His blest command With joy we heed. We seek his shrine,
For peace, which vibrates from this sacred tomb.
Star-soul upon your further voyage bent, You leave our orbit gladdened by your light!
Through years, the purpose of your high intent
Was but to cleanse and uplift human sight
To Baha’u’lláh’s Sun of Truth!
To give this purblind world a youth
Of hopes and dreams, born of His Kingly word
Whose lucent power makes space a womb of wealth
Rich with a freedom forged in spirit’s fire!
Upon that anvil, you laid down desire
For the companioned ways of human love
And in lone beauty shone o’er many lands,
Your chart of hope surrendered to His hands.
The world was but a bead upon the thread Of your life’s work, a faith, a prayer, That moved so silken through the
Cupping your heart, to catch the love and light
That lead this age to a transcendent morn! Who knows what mysteries shall there be
THE WORLD OF TOMORROW
I know not how I chanced upon
That glorious Orb beneath the sun,
Nor can I now recall the way
That brought me to that Golden Day.
I only know it led along
Invis’ble tracks of even-song
And wound its way thru pricks and goads
Down dense and dark primeval roads.
I know not how I came upon
That splendid Orb beneath the sun;
I cannot tell
. . .
unless it be
That half-awake and aimlessly,
I wandered by, and, from within,
A gust of Love had drawn me in.
Or it may be, by way of sport,
A storm-cloud blew me to that Port.
I know not how, but one bright day
I found myself a cycle away
From bonds of dread and bonds of dearth,
Upon a new uplighted earth,
The like of which was neYer seen
By anyone, however keen,
Who lives bereft of inward mirth
Upon Today’s benighted earth.
THE BAHA’I WORLD
That Planet has no parallel
In any sphere where mortals dwell:
Supporting it as on a throne,
Its broad millenial cornerstone,
Around, before it and behind,
Proclaims the Oneness of Mankind;
The while a new and joyous dream
Supports each sacred, massive beam;
And the whole structure of its frame,
Alight with Justice and aflame
With Righteousness from base to dome,
Has rendered it a true World-Home,
Where all desire only the good
Of all its various brotherhood.
The Orb itself is like a tide
Of gold and grain on every side,
And overflows each vale and wold,
Like some great vat, too full to hold,
And spills in fountains gold and grain
On rugged places and on plain— That all may garner and may share
The plenty which is everywhere.
Besides its seas that shine and roll,
And oceans which surround it whole,
On one side rise from mists of things
White mountains like celestial wings;
And on the other, pillars rise,
Rise high and noble to the skies;
And here and there an arch and dome
As of castles in some starry home.
And all around in even flow,
Upon the high hills and the low,
Deep rivers feed the fertile lands
Like multitudes of loving hands.
There is no valley but has fountains,
No highland but has golden mountains,
No wilderness but has a pool,
And every root is glad and cool.
For, as, in gratitude, unto
A Kind, that’s merciful and true,
That keeps the Justice and the Peace,
Nor knows the ways of avarice,
The elements, it seems to me,
Work there in conscious ministry,
And they, together with the earth,
Contrive that bounty and that mirth.
The Orb, I said, is like a tide
Of gold and grain on every side
But, ah! to what shall I compare
The peerless peoples assembled there!
The righteous nations that understand
Their Planet is a Fatherland!
What I saw there no man has seen
Save he so blest as there to’ve been,
Save he who chanced, with weary breath,
From out a world, plunged deep in death,
From out a sphere, impelled by din,
Outwardly live, but dead within,
To look into an Orb that beams
With Justice and with Truth redeems!
A World that knows not of such things
As risen clowns and fallen kings;
Or any place or path, along— Men straining at the leash of wrong;
Or burning yokes that bend awry;
Or cank’ring wounds that brutify;
Or rabid men commanding fate;
Or mad men at the helm of state;
A world where no one wants or needs,
Where no one prides or lusts or greeds,
Or grinds or crushes any more,
Or shatters or destroys by war;
Where all inventiveness and skill,
The learning and the common will
Is consecrated to a-grace
And dignify the human race.
And everywhere I saw the same,
In little lands and lands of name;
The teeming earth, the plenteous wine,
The shade and refuge of the vine,
And all the milk and myrrh and mirth
Are shared by all who dwell on earth.
And none who labor there are dreary;
And none who serve are ever weary;
And none are waxen fat and sleek;
And none are portionless and weak;
But all are strong and mount up high,
With wings, like eagles, to the sky;
And like the eagle, unbound and free,
Is all of that humanity;
And there is singing in the fields,
And there is gladness in the yields,
And understandings never cease,
And ah! there is no end of Peace.
And what a glory ‘twas to see,
(I did not dream such things could be),
A World all clean and wholly freed
Of every barrier of race and creed!
Whence everything, that leads astray,
Was swept, as by the wind, away;
Whence all the images of old,
The molten ones of brass and gold,
And graven ones of silver bars,
That vied in shining with the stars,
Were cast away, like things unclean;
Are never spoken of or seen.
And none proclaims the praise of gain,
And none bow low to what is vain,
And none are serving turbid needs,
And none are trafficking in creeds,
And no false prophets, in disguise,
Are blinding men with baleful lies,
Not anywhere, in any place!
But everywhere a nameless grace
For every acre that World around
Is holy, consecrated ground,
And all the Sphere, with one accord,
The Tabernacle of the Lord— Since all cohere and all declare
The Oneness of Religion there.
And ah! this too was good to see;
A Planet, calm and tumult-free,
Whence all the uproar and mistrust
Has vanished in a cloud of dust:
As tho the Lord had stretched His Hand
And touched each mouth in every land— All speak a universal tongue!
And high and low and old and young,
And peoples from all parts and poles
Converse together like kindred souls
And members of a single band,
Or children of one native land.
And lo! there’s nowhere the confounding
And the confusion so astounding,
Which drove apart and led astray
The crumbling Babel of Today
But everywhere the harmony
Of branches on a leafy tree,
And pure, ah pure, enlightened hearts
And understanding in all parts;
And all the earth, replete with glory— Untold as yet in any story.
For how make known, to what compare
The bounties of the spirit there?
Such outpouring of nameless grace
As a United Human Race?
Or faiths of every shade and notion
Merged, like rivers in an ocean?
Or all the thousand tongues men spun
Reduced to clearness and to One?
And how describe and how compute
Such harvests of eternal fruit
As bowed-down men, grown straight and tall,
With Peace on earth, Good Will to all?
I know not how, I said, before,
I chanced upon that Golden Shore;
Nor can I tell what magic steed,
In faith or fun, had done this deed;
I know not how, I know not who,
But this I know, this thing is true:
I saw, with eyes undimmed and clear,
Tomorrow’s All-Inclusive Sphere,
Anchored in Truth that sets men free
And leads to all Infinity!
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